Thoughts

How could anything matter to him now? Yeah people always complain on Facebook or on Twitter, but did they even know how it felt when your world comes crashing down? Or when your all alone in a world that holds billions? When your all curled up in your on misery?
The answer is no they don't.
His fist slammed against the table, the impact so hard that it made the base shake a little too much. He tried to clear his head by taking few deep breaths. He tried various ways, even the way his mom had taught him,count to ten. Now calm he realised he was all alone, in a house that held his childhood memories and once held laughter. That once was filled with his Father's deep rich voice and the sweet flow of his Mom's. How could things change so drastically? He looked around with pain in his eyes and saw everything as they left it before the trip. He shut his eyes tight and held the bridge of his nose, floods of thoughts flowing into him. That trip. What happened there was no accident, someone was to be blamed. But the question was who? He still remembers the details clearly.

The streets were dark and empty. The street light casting a eerie light upon the pavement. The smell of litter and sewage filled the air, forcing Nathan to block his nose. His Mom and Dad were ecstactic about the upcoming views they were only to see, if only they knew. Their conversation was leaning towards every tourist thing they could do, so naturally he zoned out. The next series of events some say is the the wrath of God. In an alley that connected with the pavement a man was walking towards them. A very drunk man.His deep sneer noticable his features, hidden. He was shouting out something to them, his words were slurred. Slowly out of his belt he pulled out a gun and without hestitating shot at his Dad. A moments silence filled the air, during them Dad was on the floor desperate for a miracle to happen. Mom, hysterical, ran towards Dad and knelt beside him. That man shot his Mom in the back four times. The sounds filled the air making him cringe. Beneath him are the bodies of his parents. His mind was racing to register as to whether this was a dream, it wasn't. His blood pumping speed decreased. His heartbeat faltered for a few seconds. His hand twitching. He looked up and saw the alley, but no man. That man had ran away after killing his innocent parents.

When the ambulance came it was too late, all he could do was watch and wait. Police interviewed him number of times. Always the same questions. What business was your Mom and Dad doing? Did you have any features of this man? Demanding question after question. Statement after statement. But the police asked me to do one favour which grabbed his heart and twisted it out. " Please describe what had happened". He even heard that the police made a theory of how maybe his parents wasn't so innocent.

Who did these people think they were? Doubting the innoncence of his parents. The parents that had raised him from birth.

He looked up and saw the ray of sunlight creeping in through the hastily drawn curtains. That light reminded him of hope. Like a dandelion on a field or a dove in the sky. He would definitely not get over the death of his beloved parents but maybe time does heal all. Maybe after some time a piece of that trauma would peel off.
He believed that and moved on to a brand new day, a brand new beginning.
"Live your life with arms wide open. Today is when your book begins the rest is unwrittern"

Hey there!

So I like this story, it carries a nice message. I'll deal with the nitpicks first:

How could anything matter to him now? Yeah, people always complain on Facebook or on Twitter, but did they even know how it felt when your world comes crashing down? Or when you're all alone in a world that holds billions? When you're all curled up in your own misery?

The answer is no, they don't. (I think it would be good if you could expand here, explain why they don't. It feels like you're leaving the subject of other people not caring sort of just hanging there. Also, expanding would be a good way to relate more to the MC.)

His fist slammed against the table, the impact so hard that it made the base come slowly crumbling down. (what kind of table is it? Tables don't usually come crumbling down, not in my experience, anyway...) He tried to clear his head by taking few deep breaths. Now calm he realised he was all alone, in a house that held his childhood memories and, once, held laughter. How could things change so drastically? He looked around with pain in his eyes and saw everything as they left it before the trip. He shut his eyes tight and held the bridge of his nose, floods of thoughts flowing into him. The trip. What happened there was no accident, someone was to be blamed. But the question was who? He still remembered the details clearly.

The streets were dark and empty. The street light casting a eerie light upon the pavement. His Mom and Dad were estactic about the upcoming views they were only to see, if only they knew. Their conversation was leaning towards every tourist thing they could do, so naturally he zoned out. Then in an alley that connected with the pavement a man was walking towards them. A very drunk man. He was shouting out something to them, his words were slurred. Out of his belt he pulled out a gun and without hestitating shot at his Dad. A moments silence filled the air, during which Dad was on the floor desperate for a miracle to happen. Mom, hysterical, ran towards Dad and knelt beside him. That man shot his Mom in the back four times. The sounds filled the air making him cringe. Beneath him are the bodies of his parents. His mind was racing to register as to whether this was a dream, it wasn't. He looked up and saw the alley, but no man. When the ambulance came it was too late, all he could do was watch and wait. Police worked very hard on this case for days, but found nothing. That man was in the shadows.

He looked up and saw the ray of sunlight creeping in through the hastily drawn curtains. That light reminded him of hope. Like a dandelion on a field or a dove in the sky. He would definitely not get over the death of his beloved parents but maybe time does heal all. Maybe after some time a piece of that trauma would peel off. (I like this bit :])

He believed that and moved on to a brand new day, a brand new beginning.

They do say

Live your life with open arms. Today is the day your books starts the rest is unwrittern
(that's a nice message to end with, but I'm pretty sure this comes from Natasha Bedingfield's song, Unwritten, so make sure to credit her otherwise this could be seen as plagiarism )

Overall:

As I said before, this carries a nice message, but I find it too short to really get into it. I couldn't really connect with the main character or his parents, and I found his optimism at the end a bit too abrupt. I think you could expand this in several ways: firstly, the flashback of the trip could be lengthened. I understand if you don't want to go into the details of the parents' deaths, but you could still describe the alley more: the smell, the cramped feeling in there, for example. It would be good if you gave a description of the drunk man, the expression on his face when he pulled the trigger, etc. Also, even if he was drunk, he would still have to have a bit of motivation to shoot two innocent people - maybe have him accuse the father of something? As you wish, though.
It would be good if you could include more of the MC's reactions, too, for now it seems he's just standing there, not too scared or upset. Maybe have him feel frozen, have the whole world slow down around him...
Another thing I think you could lengthen is the ending. As I said, it was slightly abrupt - perhaps you could include more of his thought process, have him think the whole thing through a little more. Maybe even a dialogue with someone, something, would help?
Just one other thing: there were quite a few grammar and spelling mistakes in there - make sure to use spellcheck before submitting. You changed tenses quite a few times as well, be careful with that.

Well, that's about it. Sorry about that long rant, this is a good story, just expand it a bit and it'll be great!

Keep writing, and hope I helped!

~Lilicia

Okay, I must say this is beautifully written. Your description after the flashback is quite well done. Otherwise, I liked the title and I got drawn in almost automatically, which rarely happens.

Otherwise, I'm going to speed edit it, just for typos and maybe a few minute details. Then I'll tell you a bit more about flashbacks, from what I understand...

"How could anything matter to him now? Yeah, people always complain on Facebook or on Twitter, but did they even know how it felt when your world comes crashing down? Or when you're all alone, in a world that holds billions? When you're all curled up in your own misery?

The answer is no, they don't.

His fist slammed against the table, the impact so hard that it made the base come slowly crumbing down. He tried to clear his head by taking few deep breaths. Now calm he realized he was all alone, in a house that held his childhood memories and once held laughter. How could things change so drastically?

He looked around with pain in his eyes and saw everything as they left it before the trip. He shut his eyes tight and held the bridge of his nose, a flood of thoughts flowing into him. The trip. What happened there was no accident, someone was to blame. But the question was who? He still remembers the details clearly.

The streets had been dark and empty. The street light casting a eerie light upon the pavement. His mom and dad were ecstatic about the upcoming views they were to see. Their conversation was leaning towards every tourist thing they could do, so naturally he zoned out. Then, in an alley that connected with the pavement, a man was walking towards them. A very drunk man. He was shouting out something to them, his words were slurred. Out of his belt he pulled out a gun and without hestitating shot at his dad. A moment's silence filled the air; during it Dad was on the floor and he was desperate for a miracle to happen. Mom, hysterical, ran towards Dad and knelt beside him.

That man shot his Mom in the back four times. The sounds filled the air, making him cringe. Beneath him are the bodies of his parents. His mind was racing to register as to whether this was a dream, it wasn't. He looked up and saw the alley, but no man. When the ambulance came it was too late, all he could do was watch and wait.

The police worked very hard on this case for days, but found nothing.

That man was in the shadows.

He looked up and saw the ray of sunlight creeping in through the hastily drawn curtains. That light reminded him of hope. Like a dandelion in a field, or a dove in the sky. He would definitely not get over the death of his beloved parents, but maybe time does heal all. Maybe after some time a piece of that trauma would peel off.

He believed that and moved on to a brand new day, a brand new beginning.

They do say: "Live your life with open arms. Today is the day your books starts, and the rest is unwritten"."

There you have the basics. At some points, things were a bit confusing and I'd go over the piece with a fine-tooth comb, but I don't know what your message is meant to be--so I can't. I suggest picking up "The First Five Pages" and "Fiction Writing for Dummies"--and that's not meant to be patronizing--at your library. I just read the first and am working on the second. The latter also has an excellent bit about flashbacks. Or you could go to Ask an Expert, or such, and find someone who can help you better with the flashback.

From my understanding, a flashback should be apart--a new paragraph or set of paragraphs--like you had it, but it also should start with a "had". Then, after that, it continues on as if it were all happening at that time. Then you have another break, and put what's happening after the daydream. You did rather well, but you inserted a few things that showed things were in the past, when a flashback would just be the character remembering things that he's seen in real-time. I'd also suggest making the scene a bit more chaotic; everything makes sense, maybe some more sense, but it isn't exactly chronological or cut-and-dried. Try seeing what he'd see on a dark night, then take out what his brain might be blocking out.

Also, I suggest giving him a name. It helps in third person to give your character a name; because at some points, if you're writing correct, you'll have to name him, because you can't use "he" right after you mention his dad, because then the readers will think the dad is doing the thing, thinking the thing, whatever.

I hope this helps and if you need me to review anything else, just send me a PM or email, anyway. And--nice job.

First off, remember that the quotations are to be put in standard quotation marks ( " " ), not the [ quote ] option on the sidebar when you post. There were also quite a few grammatical errors.

His Mom and Dad was estactic

should be: his mom and dad were ecstatic.

You need to spend more time describing the situation, because I was very confused the first time I read this. It doesn't have as much emotional baggage as I believe you intended it to have.

PM me for any questions/comments.
Lena